


Getting Wet

by makuroshi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, Fluff and Humor, M/M, boys just pls hurry up already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuroshi/pseuds/makuroshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lukas finally grasps the idea. It sure looks interesting, and there’s nothing better than showing your support for a movement while having fun at it. But if he’s going to accept a challenge and do something silly in front of the camera, he’s not one known to do it alone.</p><p>(or, Lukas attempts to drag Basti into doing the ice bucket challenge with him)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Wet

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I'm sorry if there's any inaccuracy, I tried getting the names right but halfway through writing this I wasn't keeping track of who's nominating who already.  
> EDIT: Basti finally did the challenge [here](https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152622230279723&fref=nf)! HE'S SO FCKING CUTE GOSHHH

Lukas Podolski is, with all due respect, the true King of Social Media in the world of football, and he’d done _a whole lot_ to get to this stage.

It wasn’t even his self-proclaimed title or anything pathetically desperate like that, no, it was a real nickname given to him by the sports journalists who had _obviously_ been stalking his Twitter, Facebook and Instagram accounts. To top it all, he is also dubbed the King of Selfie after the astounding amount of selfie he had posted which when arranged in a line could encircle the Earth a few times and still have enough to spare for a walkway to Mars. Okay, that’s a little exaggerated, but it’s still much more than that of any other rising footballer with a flourishing career like him. Lukas thinks that if all the King titles are going to him now then he might as well rule the whole world. Maybe Basti could be his Queen.

Or should it be the other way round?

Anyway.

To put it simply, anything that goes around in the Internet will inevitably cross his path. Nothing ever goes unnoticed, _nothing_. He keeps his fans updated with his daily activities even when it was something as insignificant and mundane as grilling sausages in his backyard, because he is Lukas freaking Podolski, surely there would be people interested in an attractive picture of him smiling beside a grill with charcoal smudge on his face, right?

And Lukas admits, he reads his fans’ comments frequently (he loved it when Brazilian fans kept asking him to come back, it’s really sweet of them), even though he doesn’t reply to any. Which is why he’s caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of comments demanding him to ‘not forget Jerome’s challenge’ and ‘not be a chicken and just do it already’ when he logs in to Facebook that day.

Lukas is confused, baffled, perplexed, puzzled; actually, no exact word can accurately describe what he feels when he scrolls down the page, scanning through the garbled comments about some ice bucket and other hilarious but completely unrelated picture comments. He notices that Jerome had tagged him in a post, and so decides to start from there. At least it’s a verified source, one that he can understand fully and not depend on Google Translator to decipher (and you’ve gotta agree, the damn thing isn’t that good at doing its job).

Jerome’s page opens up in his browser. Lukas realizes that the post he’s tagged in was actually shared from Mesut’s profile, and when he reads till the end and watches the video of Mesut pouring a bucket of ice-cold water onto his Adidas shirt-clad body with a creepily straight face, Lukas can’t fight the laughter that bubbles up inside of him.

Mesut ‘nominates’ his girlfriend Mandy, Derrick Rose and Rihanna -for reasons Lukas has yet to find out, is this an Oscar for best facial expression?- and wait is that Giroud’s _pail_ he’s using?

No wonder the chicken-haired French was so pissed after training, screaming bloody _merde_ at everything because he lost his pail and couldn’t soak his feet after a hard day’s work. Oh well.

‘Tick, Tack… **Lukas Podolski** ’ Jerome wrote. What, so this thing had a limited timeframe or something?

In a frantic attempt at trying to comprehend what the whole fiasco was about, Lukas pulls up a few tabs and begins searching for _ice bucket challenge._ Hundreds of thousands of results appear instantly, indicating just how popular and viral it has become. Apparently, the challenge is created to instill awareness on a neurodegenerative disease - Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, to be exact-, doubling as a donation drive. Lukas thinks it’s a brilliant initiative. A lot of famous celebrities and prominent figures had contributed to the cause, offering their own version of drenching themselves with freezing water and nominating another three names. Now that explains why it’s gathering so much attention; the chain just goes on and on _and on_.

Lukas finally grasps the idea. It sure looks interesting, and there’s nothing better than showing your support for a movement while having fun at it. But if he’s going to accept a challenge and do something silly in front of the camera, he’s not one known to do it alone.

Lukas Podolski is now out on a hunt for a partner in crime. Or in a challenge, whatever.

\----------

The thing is, _everyone_ knows what a widely grinning, hands in the pocket, casually strolling Lukas Podolski means.

It means trouble.

And when he’s being read and judged so easily like that, it’s pretty hard to find a willing accomplice among his teammates. They avoid him like the plague, not wanting to get involved in any of his usually outlandish pranks. After almost an hour of struggling and failing to strike a conversation, Lukas sits down to rest, naturally taking out his iPhone to check on his social media.

Just then, another person walks by and sidesteps him like he’s a piece of misplaced furniture, and Lukas knows just from the shape of his calves that it’s Mesut.

“Mesut!” Lukas calls out, effectively stopping the other man in his tracks. Mesut looks reluctant to turn, a dead giveaway that he’s been avoiding Lukas as well. “Why didn’t you take me with you? We could’ve done it together!”

Mesut lets out a dragged out, defeated sigh (akin to the sounds Manu makes when he watches the team fool around like the bunch of oversized children they are) and says “No, Poldi, you and I both know that you’ll just end up dumping the whole thing on _me_. And then I’ll be _twice_ as cold.”

“Hey, I’m not that evil, okay…” Lukas retorts, pouting slightly even though he’s fully aware that it hardly works anymore. Someone is yelling and screaming in frustration somewhere in the background, and Lukas tries to focus to make out what it is. “Wait did you hear that— Shhh…“ Lukas whispers to an unamused Mesut. The hysterical shrieking grows closer, and then Lukas continues, “Oh. I forgot to tell you. The pail you used… it was Giroud’s.”

Mesut blinks. Once. Twice. His straight face morphs into that of a cow lying on its sides waiting to be sacrificed and turned into delicious sirloin steak.

“I’m so dead, huh?” He asks, and Lukas nods weakly.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Giroud appears from behind the wall seconds later, steady stream of French profanities flowing from his mouth. He sees Mesut, and Mesut sees him.

They both start running.

It takes him a while to stop laughing (he kinda hopes Mesut gets caught, payback for ditching Lukas) but when he does, Lukas calms down and starts conjuring a list of potential candidates in his head consisting of any acquaintances he can think of. One by one, he crosses them off mentally - _too serious, too busy, never goes online, yada yada_ \- until he finally comes out with a handful of names. At first, he plans to include his baby Louis as well, like what Beckham did to his son Brooklyn (and that version’s by far the funniest one to date) but decides against it, not wanting to expose his precious son to pneumonia or anything horrible like that.

After much pondering and contemplating, Lukas settles on Per Mertesacker, Kevin Groβkreutz and Nico Rosberg. This way maybe Nico will help to spread it to the F1 community next.

_But wait a minute, Kevin did the challenge already…_

Lukas is thinking hard about who to switch with when it suddenly hits him harder than a bullet train loaded with lead and bricks. It smashes into his skull, makes him want to do nothing but bang his head on the nearest solid surface repeatedly until he bleeds blood of repentance.

He had forgotten to add Bastian Schweinsteiger into the list.

Bastian freaking Schweinsteiger, the man so attached to Lukas’ hips he might as well just be sewn into his skin, the man Lukas spent his entire early adulthood poking fun at Fips’ caterpillar eyebrows with, the man Lukas would swim across blazing lava to the deepest hell and back again for. Lukas had forgotten about him.

Lukas feels like crying, but he can’t now, not when he has a challenge deadline to chase and a partner to look for.

His shaky hand is scrolling on auto-pilot but he sees it flash by on his news feed: an ALS ice bucket challenge video by Stefen Hamann, his and Basti’s mutual basketball-hanging-out-friend (so what if he butts in Basti’s games uninvited and befriends Basti’s buddies, he’s practically Basti’s _other half_ alright).

‘Now it’s time for **Bastian Schweinsteiger**. Bring it on!!’

Lukas senses a fantastic idea forming in his brilliant mind, feels the tingling excitement crawling on his skin and the hair on his arms stand taller than Marco Reus’ blonde spikes.

He finally finds it, the person for him to do the ice bucket challenge with.

The only problem is that the said person happens to be at least 1100 kilometers away from him.

Not a distance technology can’t overcome, though.

\----------

Basti picks up after the fifth ring, an indication that he’s probably busy listening to some weird rock music _again_.

“Lukas?” Bastian’s smooth, velvety voice filters through the speaker and Lukas tries his best not to melt into a puddle of helpless goo, because if he does, the plan will ultimately fail.

“Hey, babe,” Lukas says teasingly, and _god_ , Basti’s laugh is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard in his lifetime.

“Hey,” Basti answers softly. “Missing me?”

Lukas can hear the smile in his words and damn it, he’s going to be rendered a useless heap of love-drunk mess if he doesn’t get his point across _now._

“Nahh, not really,” he lies. Lukas knows Basti wouldn’t be offended; he _is_ a bad liar anyway. “Listen, I’m not sure if you knew this, but there’s this challenge going around online, and…”

“Is this the ice bucket one? The one where you bathe in a bucket of zero degrees water for charity?”

“Close… But not bathe, you just pour it onto your body. Wait, so you knew that you’ve been nominated too?”

Bastian goes silent for a while. Lukas imagines the gears turning in his best friend/crush/lover/soulmate/better half’s brain and bites down a chuckle. So he doesn’t know after all.

“Nominated? By whom?”

“Stefen Hamann. He tagged you on FB, you know! But I think there’re actually more,” Lukas answers. “Come on, bunny, just turn your webcam on.”

“No,” Bastian says simply.

Lukas pouts and makes a whiny sound which ends up more like a dying sea lion rather than endearing. Hopefully Basti digs that. “Awwww, honey come on… Do it for me, pleaaaase?”

“Only if you admit that you miss me…”

\-----------

It takes a lot of convincing and all that schmoopy cooing Mulli always describe as ‘disgustingly cute’ to get him to relent. By the time Lukas actually manages to persuade Bastian to partake in yet another crazy, possibly humiliating and self-deprecating activity with him (he doesn’t get why Basti is so reluctant, it’s just cold water for god’s sake!), more than 24 hours had passed since they’re nominated.

Or so they’d thought.

Jerome’s offer expired, so did Stefen’s, but Bastian was nominated again and again, while Lukas got his name mentioned in at least four other videos, some are of his Arsenal teammates. Kevin named them _both._ It seemed that a lot of people are more than eager to see the Cologne homeboy drench himself wet (and donate, of course). At times like this, Lukas loathes his irresistible charm; he makes friends too easily and now his friendliness is coming back to bite him right in the ass.

“You ready, Luki?” Bastian’s face appears on his laptop’s screen, smile as radiant and addictive as he remembered from the days when they’re still high on their World Cup victory, and the years before. Lukas can see the bucket (or is that a basin?!) all nicely prepared next to the midfielder, so Lukas shoots back a playful grin and yells a cheerful “Yeah!”

They agree to count until four, not three, to commemorate Germany’s four stars or something oversentimental and mushy like that. As expected of the possibly most lovey-dovey, touchy-feely ~~b~~ romantic football duo of all time.

“One… Two… Three…" They squeeze their eyes shut, hands gripping their buckets (or basin, in Basti’s case) above their heads, bracing for the impact. “Four!”

The pair tip their hands simultaneously and the splashing sounds follow.

For an instance, Lukas honestly thinks that he’s just lost his limbs. He can’t feel them, his whole body is just numb, numb and _numb everywhere_. He wants to see Basti’s reaction, to burn the image of a dripping wet half-naked Bastian Schweinsteiger in his mind for the rest of eternity, but the water just keeps pouring in front of his face, blurring his vision. Without much thinking, he tosses the bucket onto the floor, and there it goes, landing perfectly on the tip of his toes.

Either the universe just hates him, or his own sensory nerves are just being a bitch, Lukas can’t say for sure, but it cannot be mere coincidence that at that very same moment, his limbs decide to stop being numb and start feeling stuff.

“Ahhhhh shit!” Lukas yelps ungracefully, crouching down to cradle his hurt toes. Thank god the webcam can’t film this far below, because this must be one of the most embarrassing moments of Lukas Podolski’s life, and that’s really saying something.

“Luki, you okay?!” Bastian’s worried voice resounds from the speaker. Lukas wants to give a thumbs up and say he’s fine but his jaws are kinda tingling and still so fucking cold and gosh how could anybody still move after all that?

He manages a weak “I’m alright, Basti” after much effort, and he’s grateful he can stand up right then because there is a very very hot Bastian soaked in very very cold water on his Skype screen and there’s a naughty voice in his head telling him to lick all that liquid off that goddamn perfect Greek god sculpture. Lukas is thankfully still in a sound state of mind and is aware that they’re being recorded now so any sexual tension he emits will be clear for all to see. Not that it isn’t always on display already.

Bastian starts talking and nominating. Lukas can’t hear everything, but he picks up “can’t say no to Lukas” and a few names, one of it being Arjen Robben. Lukas vaguely wonders if Robben would feel even more frozen up because, you know, he has no protection on his head…. Like some _hair_ to soak up the water... or something.

He might get brain freeze. Literally.

Lukas is too busy laughing at his own joke; it’s only when Bastian shouts “Lukas, your turn!” that he panics and begins recalling the names he’d picked out earlier.

“Oh yes, I’d like to nominate Per Mertesacker, Nico Rosberg and…” Lukas pauses. Who’s his third candidate again? Oh right, it’s Bastian… Shit, he has to find another name now! _Think… think…_

A name pops up in his head, and Lukas is not sure what’s his status in the World Cup squad will be if he decides on this. But he says it anyway, for lack of better ideas.

“And… Jogi Löw.”

\----------

The video is up on their respective profiles a few minutes later. Lukas wants to take more time editing the clip and adding some background songs to it, but then he remembers what happened to the one with their kissing selfie in Brazil and the Portuguese love song he added that had been successfully decoded by his fans. Damn. Sometimes they’re just too sharp for their own good.

So he settles for a straightforward, completely platonic post. Yeah.

 

_Basti and I getting wet together! Support the fundraising, donate **here**! #aha #poldi #basti #als #icebucketchallenge #fun #friends_

 

And that, is how the football fandom exploded.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever football RPF! Donate to ALSA [here](http://www.alsa.org/fight-als/ice-bucket-challenge.html). The jokes about the other players are purely for fun, hope I didn't offend any fans. Comments and kudos are really appreciated! ;)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Gosh schweinski just do it already~~


End file.
